


Playing House

by memefair



Series: Canon Divergent: Nanamicentric [5]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Human Nanami Chiaki, Nanami Chiaki Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 12:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14332728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memefair/pseuds/memefair
Summary: Maybe one of his talents is Ultimate Housewife.Chiaki reflects on her relationship with Izuru.





	Playing House

**Author's Note:**

> (u want some fluff? i'll give u some goddamn fluff)

_“Ah– Nanami-san, you seem… distracted… today. Do you want to take the rest of the day off? I can look over your paperwork for you.”_

_“Huh…? Sure, I guess… if you don’t mind.”_

The entire walk back to the apartment complex she was now stationed at, she was left to wonder if she  _really_  seemed that off. It was embarrassing to be called out like that, even if it was by a friend. What was worse was that she couldn’t exactly tell him the reason for her head being in the clouds.

“In the clouds” made it sound like she was merely daydreaming, but in truth both worry and anticipation consumed her. Said clouds were dark and heavy with rain, hanging ominously over her head as she trudged through the streets of the city Future Foundation had commandeered an entire year before. It was one of the largest reclaimed pieces of civilization on Honshu, and as a group she and the Class 78 survivors had determined that it would be a good location to put the finishing touches on the Neo World Program before it was uploaded to the system on Jabberwock Island.

When she got home, she thought somebody would be waiting there for her.

Closing the door behind her with a click, she called out softly, “I’m home” just to see if he might materialize from the shadows as he often did.

Nothing. She waited for a minute in case he might seemingly blink into existence out of the corner of her eye, but the room in front of her remained dark and empty.

* * *

And that was the source of her cloud.

Unbuttoning her vest and undoing her tie so she could throw them onto the couch, Chiaki stepped further into the empty apartment. She  _told_  him to be careful, that nobody could know he was living there with her, but… as usual, he marched to the beat of his own drum.

 _This is why you should have said no,_  Chiaki scolded herself. _You_ know _you’re going to be in massive trouble if anybody finds out. You’ll lose your job, you’ll probably go on trial, you might accidentally expose Naegi-kun at the same time… That’s the whole Neo World Program down the drain. And that’s only if_  he _doesn’t find out before then!_

(Of course she didn’t know that he already knew about it, and had been planning to sabotage it for the entirety of the time they’d known each other– if she’d known that, she wouldn’t have found herself in this… predicament.)

Chiaki groaned, burying her face in her hands. _Stupid_ _girl,_  she continued to berate herself.

 _You’re doing all of this for him when you know it’s not going to end well. Where do you go from here? Will you lie the rest of your life, just so you can be with him? you made it more than eighteen years of your life without dating anyone, and then you went and screwed it all up by falling for_  the  _worst person you could have fallen for._

_You know he doesn’t love you._

* * *

The clock ticked on.

Lying down on the couch, Chiaki stared at the ceiling, contemplating. She didn’t realize she’d been doing this for the past half an hour now, simply studying the pattern etched into the paint above her.

 _Not the worst person you could have fallen for,_  she told herself finally. 

 _He treats you right, for the most part._ God forbid she ever forget her own parents and how they were constantly at each other’s throats. _Even if he can be frustratingly self-centered at times, there’s a certain charm to it… and you know he does care about you, even if he won’t really express that properly. If he didn’t, he’d be long gone by now. You’d never see him again. He wouldn’t have any interest in_ living _with you._

Domestic life didn't really suit him. It was monotonous and boring, doing the same thing every day, not at all the chaos and danger he craved. In a way, Chiaki felt bad, as if she were caging him, even though she knew nothing could stop him if he truly wanted to leave.

She closed her eyes and sighed. It was hard to put into words  _why_  she loved him. Just being near him was comforting, and he… took care of her, in a way, even if she didn’t want to think of herself as somebody who needed to be taken care of.

She’d never once doubted his humanity. The rest of the world could mark him as a monster, but she knew it wasn’t true. What had been done to him was irreversible, but for all they had tried, the Steering Committee hadn’t been able to remove that core from him.

Her expression soured immediately upon thinking of the Steering Committee.

* * *

Chiaki paced back and forth, forty-five minutes having passed since she’d gotten home. The waiting made it feel like forever.

 _If only you had met him before Enoshima did_ , came a melancholy thought. _Things could have been different._   _You could have shown him a world that wasn’t a– a– a complete shitshow. If only you’d stuck with it, you might have eventually uncovered something… not on your own, but maybe with Kirigiri-san’s help, you could have made a difference._

_And then the whole world wouldn’t hate him, and you could be together without having to hide it._

She definitely understood the irony of being protective of somebody who needed no protection. He was far more capable of most things than she was, and yet whenever somebody brought up his name to damn him, she instantly bristled.

She hated the Steering Committee for having used him. Before it was because the thought of anybody being treated that way was so vile it made her sick to her stomach, but now it was because of  _who_  they had warped and shaped in their image so thoroughly it stuck with him years later.

…was it possessiveness? God, she hoped not. In a way, she did think of him as  _hers_ , but–

Her face colored, and she shook the thought out of her head. It stayed with her, though, repeating over and over.

* * *

She changed out of her Future Foundation uniform into something she hoped was a little more flattering. Knowing his tastes, though, it probably wasn't much better than the t-shirts she normally wore when she didn't have work. She'd never seen him in anything less than formal wear as long as she'd known him.

Chiaki fell onto her bed with a sigh and remained still as she bounced twice, staring out her bedroom door to where she could still see some of the main room.

After a moment she stood up, turned the lights off, closed the blinds, popped a few more buttons on her blouse and got back on the bed. She settled herself into a lounging position and waited.

And waited.

After about five minutes, she got bored of that and took her DS out of the drawer next to the bed and flipped it open. She played a game that was supposed to have been re-released on the Switch, before the Tragedy got in the way. 

She tried to stay in what she hoped was something of an alluring pose, but her sense of romance eventually took a back seat to what was practical.

In time, with the lights off, she began to doze. Her head drooped, and Chiaki began to snore.

* * *

A key was inserted into the lock, and the door opened.

From the bedroom, the noise of bags rustling could be heard, though Chiaki wasn’t awake to hear it. The items obtained while he was out were put away, all except for what he intended to use that evening.

When that was done, he found her lying there on the bed in an uncomfortable position, face down, DS still on. The battery light was red.

He slid it out of her hands, saved the game, turned the console off, and then plugged it in so it could charge. Then he easily turned her over so she wasn’t curled up with her neck twisted at an angle, something that would undoubtedly make her ache later.

Chiaki didn’t wake up. She barely even moved. He departed just as silently as he’d arrived, not disturbing her.

* * *

The mouth-watering aroma of only the most delicious food being cooked gradually filled the apartment. It assaulted her in her dreams. A wet patch grew on her pillow, though that was actually nothing out of the ordinary.

The lights came on. Something touched her shoulder, and no words were wasted in trying to wake her. Instead, she groggily came to with his hand shaking her out of her slumber.

She blinked a few times, disoriented, having forgotten that she was even waiting for him in the first place.

Chiaki sat up and wiped her mouth before stretching, hands laced together up high so she could pop her back and her neck. She groaned softly. It always took her a little while to pull herself together after she’d been roused from a nap.

“I made dinner.”

His voice was as monotone as always.

Chiaki rubbed her eyes, pushing her hair out of her face where it had gotten stuck while she was asleep. “Oh… really? Thank you,” she murmured. Then she looked up, pink eyes peering at him as if she’d just now realized he was there.

She met his gaze and time slowed to a crawl for her. In truth, she could have stayed there like that forever. Instead, she reached a hand out and brushed his bangs to the side, holding them off so she could just barely make out the scar on his temple. She didn’t linger there, simply making note of it briefly.

Her face broke out in a brilliant but sleepy smile that had become altogether too rare since the tragedy had begun.

“Welcome home, Izuru.”

She thought she saw his expression soften for just a moment, but it was probably a trick of the light.

Chiaki got up off the bed and opened the blinds again before she followed him out to the kitchenette. Watching curiously over his shoulder, she waited for him to help himself, arms wrapped loosely around his waist. It was something simple, but it made her happy.

“…your shirt’s unbuttoned,” he observed.

She blinked. “Ah… right!”

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna sleep on every piece of fuzz and stuffing that comes out of you.


End file.
